And Then There Was Light
by LittleScorpion18
Summary: If Ethan chose not to pull the trigger. Vanessa's story continues. Chapter 11 is now up!
1. Chapter 1

And Then There Was Light

Summary: What if Ethan didn't pull the trigger?

I have finally summed up enough courage to write this, and while it's not my first time writing, it has been awhile, so I am a little more than rusty. Okay, onto the story. I, like many others, had my heart ripped out at the end of the series finale, so to get over it (like that's going to happen) I am writing an alternate ending. This may or may not be a one-shot, it just depends on what my imagination conjures up. So bear with me! Reviews and constructive criticism are encouraged!

I do not own Penny Dreadful and/or its characters or storyline, it all belongs to the brilliant John Logan, Showtime, cast, crew, etc…

They're here.

I know it because I can feel the old Vanessa trying to reach the surface, desperate for the familiar faces. But I resist her. I've become something I can't live with. They weren't here, and now it's too late.

No, _he_ wasn't here, _he_ was too late.

 _Ethan_.

My resolve hardens at the thought of him, part in anger and part in sadness. Anger for leaving me in this darkness alone, sadness at the loss of a friend, of more than a friend.

I shake those lingering thoughts away. I can't think about the past now.

Closing my eyes, I hear heavy footfalls rushing closer, opening the heavy door. It's time. Time for this to be over.

Turning to look at him as he walks tensely closer, I feel a tug in my chest. _Ethan._ All the anger I thought I had towards him dissipates at the sight of his beautiful face, and I try not let my voice waver.

"It hurts me more than I thought it would, seeing you."

He takes another step closer.

"You need to come with me. Now."

I almost take a step forward to follow him. This is going to be harder than I thought it would be.

"And go where? They will hunt me until the end of days."

"I can protect you."

 _Oh Ethan, my dear Mr. Chandler._ It is too late for that now.

"No, you can't. No one can."

"Then we'll fight him."

 _Doesn't he see?_

"It's not him. It's me. Look at me; this is what I am, and this is what I've done." My voice breaks, betraying me. "Brought this terrible darkness to the world."

"Vanessa. Please."

Those two words grab at my weary heart, and I almost give in. Almost. I must stay strong.

"Vanessa? And where is she? When did we lose her Ethan?"

I know exactly when I lost her.

"She was standing in a quiet room, gazing up at a cross, she reached out, took it from the wall…and put it in fire."

I am whispering now, the words almost too painful to say.

"And then she was lost…and so alone."

Ethan's face softens, and he takes a few more steps towards me.

"You are not alone." His voice is determined "You never were. I have stood at the very edge. I have looked into the abyss. If I'd have taken one more step, I would have fallen. But no matter how far I ran away from God, he was still waiting ahead."

Frowning, I look down at the white tile floor.

"Not for me."

He lowers his head, trying to reach me. "For us all."

Taking a deep breath, I prepare myself. He needs to understand how this must end.

"My battle must end. You know that. Or they'll never be peace on earth." I see it in his eyes when he realizes what I'm asking of him. But I continue before he can interrupt me.

"Let it end."

"Don't ask it." He sounds almost frightened.

"I don't have too. You know you have a destiny. It's why we first met. It's why you're here now. You must help me defeat the forces of darkness and deny them their prize, for all time."

"No."

I look at him now. Really look at him. Not as this new, dark thing I've become, but as the old Vanessa. I am so tired.

"Please." I can't stop the tears this time. "Ethan, let it end."

He doesn't say anything, but I know he understands now. He knows what must be done for all of this to end. I reach for his gun; just like I did when he was teaching me to shoot, and I know he's thinking of that moment too. It all seems like a lifetime ago.

His warm hands cover mine.

"With a kiss?" I ask. Because I want something to take with me wherever it is, I'm going.

"With a kiss." He takes in a shaky breath" With love."

With love."

As I lean in to meet his lips, I know that I am making the right choice by leaving this world. The torment will end and my family with live. They will live and move on to places far greater than any of them can imagine. That's all I ever wanted.

Resting my forehead against his, I wait for the click of the gun.

It doesn't come.

"No."

The gun falls to the floor, and Ethan takes my face in his hands.

"I told you once that you will not surrender while I live. We've been through too much together for it to end like this."

"Eth-" he cuts me off

"No Vanessa, I could never forgive myself."

He releases my face to drag a hand over his face. I feel cold. Empty. This wasn't how I thought this would turnout.

"Ethan, it has to be this way."

He narrows his eyes at this.

"Why?" He's looking directly at me now. Those brown orbs piercing my very soul. "We can find another way. I just need to get you out of here."

Could there really be another way to end this?

"You don't want to die. I know you don't. If you did why didn't you do it yourself a long time ago?"

 _Oh._

I don't know how to respond because he's right. I don't want to die. I want to live. God, I want to live, but I don't know any other way. I feel hot tears flood my eyes as he pulls me into an embrace.

"We'll get through this." His voice is hoarse, and I hang onto him a little tighter.

"Together?"

He pulls back slightly to place a tender kiss on my forehead. "Together."

And for the first time in a very, very long time I catch a glimpse of something at the end of my dark tunnel.

Light.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: As you can see, I've decided to make this story multiple chapters. I hoped you enjoyed the first chapter! So, I'm going to be making alternate points of view between Ethan and Vanessa. Last chapter was through Vanessa's POV and this chapter will be from Ethan's. If this gets too confusing just let me know, and I'll see how I can fix it, but I think it should be fine** **J** **. Alright, enough of my blabbering and onto the story! Enjoy and R &R! Rated T for language.**

 **Again I do not own Penny Dreadful and/or its characters. All rights reserved to John Logan.**

It's silent as we walk away from the white room. Too silent. The scent of blood is strong in the air, setting my teeth on edge. I set a fast pace, wanting to find the others and put as much distance between Vanessa and this dreadful place as I possibly can. She's looking nervously around, her clammy hand gripping tightly to mine.

 _I need to get her out of here._

As we reach the balcony, I turn to Vanessa and reach for my gun, handing it to her.

"Wait here. I don't know what I'll find out there."

She nods quietly and pulls her hand from mine, wrapping her arms around herself. I can tell she's fighting it. Fighting the firm hold Dracula has over her and as I make my way down the stairs I pray to God I did the right thing here tonight.

The room is hazy with smoke, and there are bodies everywhere, I begin searching for the familiar faces of my friends, but all I see are bloodshot eyes and pale skin. Relief sinks over me; they are still alive. But where are they?

I look around and spot a figure coming out of the shadows. I draw my gun, ready to shoot.

"Ethan?" I let out the breath I was holding and lower my weapon.

"Doctor, you've no idea how good it is to see you." He looks tired, and aside from a few cuts and bruises, seemingly unharmed. "The others?" I ask.

He nods. "Alive." And then adds "We have him down in the basement. Catriona has him contained for now, but it won't hold for long."

He looks around as if just realizing I'm alone and goes as white as the corpses around us. "Is she-?"

"She's alive." I reach out and give him a reassuring touch on the shoulder "Come with me."

She's sitting on the ground, her feet tucked under her dress. I hear Victor shudder a breath, and I crouch down next to her, gently lifting her tear-stained face with my hands.

"Vanessa?"

When she opens her eyes, I want to recoil. Almost entirely gone is the piercing blue I've come to love, and in its place, bloody red, spreading across her irises like wildfire. _He's winning the battle inside her. The bastard._

"Ethan her eyes." The Doctor sounds frightened, and Vanessa stiffens, her beautiful face twisting in alarm.

"He's getting stronger—"She winces and lets out a moan. The sound breaks my heart _._ "Whatever hold you had on him is wearing off. The only way to stop him is to kill him."

"We've tried."

I turn to Victor, who's leaning against the wall, arms crossed in thought. "What do you mean you tried?"

"I mean, he won't die. Sir Malcolm put a bullet through his heart and nothing happened." He begins pacing the room. _It makes me nervous_. "I slit his throat, and he laughed while the bloody wound healed itself."

A dull ache wiggles its way to the back of my eyelids. Growling in frustration, I close my eyes.

"Well then how the hell are we supposed to kill him?"

No one has an answer for that, and we lapse into a tense silence.

"It has to be you." I turn my attention back to Vanessa, who's now looking only at me. "If killing me will stop this madness, then killing him with have the same effect."

She's right. But if killing her brings his death, then what would his death do to her? Will all of this have been for nothing?

As if reading my mind, she brings a shaky hand to my chest, resting it just over my heart. "This is a chance we have to take if he's ever to be stopped."

Victor clears his throat "She's right, we have to try."

Never taking my eyes from hers, I slowly rise and hold out my hand. "Together?"

"Together."

We follow Victor down a long damp stairway leading to the basement. No one speaks, too distracted by their thoughts, the only sounds are the echo of our shoes against the hard stone. As we get closer I notice Vanessa standing a little straighter, her chin raised in defiance. _Good girl. If she can't resist him, then all hope is lost._ And I don't think I can live in a world without the hope walking beside me, who's so willing to die for the ones she loves.

I'm pulled from my thoughts when Victor knocks twice on a heavy metal door which then swings open, revealing Sir Malcolm. Vanessa hurries to him, burying her face in his neck. Her voice thick with unshed tears. "We must hurry, I'm not sure how much longer I can keep this darkness at bay."

Sir Malcolm's worried eyes meet mine as she releases him and walks boldly into the room holding the man who's responsible for all her pain and suffering. There's nothing to be said that he doesn't already know, so I brush past him, not wasting anytime following her in.

He's sitting in a chair in the middle of the room, head down, thick chains covering his wrists and ankles. Above him is a symbol, one I've never seen before, which looks to have been drawn in blood. I know from personal experience that those chains will snap at the flick of his wrist. I look up at the strange symbol again _. So this must be what's keeping him in place._

All eyes are on Vanessa as she makes her way around the room to stand directly in front of him. I hold my breath has he raises his head, his eyes meeting hers. To anyone else she looks unaffected, but I can hear the change in her breathing and see the slight shake of her delicate hands. I come around the room to stand by her side, my eyes never leaving his, which are still locked on Vanessa.

"My beloved has returned to me; just like I knew she would." He's smiling at her in a way that makes my skin crawl, his red eyes deepening in color. Next to me Vanessa flinches. _He's trying to control her_. I take a step forward, so I'm standing slightly in front of her. Shielding her from his burning stare.

"She's come to watch you die, you son of a bitch." I feel the wolf shake with fury "She never was and never will be yours."

"Oh, but wasn't she?" he asks me darkly. "She was mine the moment you walked out of that house. You practically handed her over to me."

"Tell him, Vanessa, tell him how you surrendered yourself to me, tell him of how we made love." He's looking directly at me, trying to get under my skin. Behind me, I feel Vanessa step forward. Her eyes are closed, and a single tear makes its way down her cheek, but when she speaks her voice is sharp and clear.

"I've done terrible things and hurt many in the process, and I have to learn to live with that" she's looking directly at Dracula now "But I will die before you have control over me again." Looking over to me she nods "Let it end." And walks to the back of the room to stand with the others.

I don't waste any time pulling out the gun that, only hours before had been pointed at Vanessa, and aim it at the creature sitting before me.

"So the Wolf of God has come to slay the dragon." He smiles "Have you forgotten that Vanessa is part of me now? And if you kill me, what will become of her?"

I smile back "She's stronger than you think." And then I pull the trigger, praying I didn't just make the biggest mistake of my life.

Afterward no one makes a sound. No one looks to the lifeless monster slumped in the chair. All eyes are on Vanessa. Waiting.

I make it to her just before her head hits the cold stone floor…

 **A/N: Cliffhanger! I know, I hate them too, but it seemed like a good place to end this chapter. I'll try and get the next chapter up asap!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: You guys, I am so sorry for the delay of the 3** **rd** **chapter! I've been away on holiday this week and have had no time to write. But I'm back now and in fully focused writing mode;) This chapter will be from Ethan's POV again. Alrighty, onto chapter 3! Happy reading and R &R!**

 **All Rights Reserved to the lovely John Logan.**

It has been three days. The light has returned and chased away the dreadful fog and the folks of London have gone back to their mundane routines. It's as if, over the course of three days, nothing had ever happened.

And so with the light, everything is back to the way it was.

But not for me. The light I so desperately need is laying motionlessly on the bed in front of me; her pale arms put gently at her sides.

Victor is here. He comes in twice a day to check on her. I watch as he takes her delicate wrist between his fingers, checking her pulse and then shining a light back and forth across her eyes.

I can tell by the line between his brow, that nothing's changed. Heck, I could've told him that.

I'm pulled from my thoughts when I sense the doctors stare.

"Ethan, you need rest."

"I'm fine."

 _I am not leaving her side._

The line between his brow deepens as he gives me a once over, but he doesn't say anything else. I know I probably look like hell. I haven't changed since that night, and my eyes sting in exhaustion with every blink. But I can't sleep. When I do, I dream of blood red eyes and raven hair. I dream of _him,_ taking her away in darkness.

Leaning forward on the bed I take one of her cold hands in mine. I won't leave her side. Not ever. I've already made that mistake once, and I won't be making it again.

I'm awakened from a fitful dream by the soft echo of distant thunder. I'm gripping Vanessa's hand so tightly that my fingers have long gone numb. Quickly releasing my grip, I stand up and stretch my sore muscles.

Looking around the quiet room, I notice the fire going and a pot of tea is on the side table. Probably Sir Malcolm. He comes in every night, while I restlessly doze, and sits with Vanessa.

Rubbing a hand over my face, I pour a cup and make my way over to her side again. She could be sleeping; if it weren't for the ashy color, her pale skin has taken. Or the shadows underneath her dark lashes, giving her a hollow, empty look. She's almost too painful to look at.

I let my eyes trail over the light freckles dusting her forehead, making my way down to her lips. _God, I miss her smile, her raspy voice._

I would give anything to hear it again.

A restless feeling creeps its way into my chest. The waiting makes me anxious. But all we can do is wait. Wait for her to wake up, to give us some sign she's okay, that she's fighting whatever battle is going on in that strange head of hers.

I pour myself another cup of tea, just for something to do, and head over to the window. I'm about to take a sip of the lukewarm brew when I hear it.

A sharp intake of breath.

I freeze.

Any other person would have missed it, with the rain drumming loud against the window. I didn't though. My sense of hearing far too sensitive to miss it.

I slowly turn to look at the figure on the bed, my heart pounding.

Her chest is rising and falling with quick, jerky movements, and the hands at her sides are clenching the sheets so tightly, they've started to turn white.

I'm next to her in an instant, cupping her face with my hands. Her once, cold skin is now like fire.

Cold dread washes over me when warm blood trails from her nose, making angry red spots on the pillow beneath her head.

 _No no no_.

I rush downstairs and find Sir Malcolm and Victor in the main room, both still awake. They startle when they see me.

I look to Victor but freeze when a scream rips through the house.

They don't waste any time following me back upstairs.

When we get to the room, she's thrashing around, her face twisted in pain. The sheets that were clenched in her hands are now tangled at her feet.

Sir Malcolm and I watch helplessly as the doctor puts a hand to her hot forehead. Her eyes roll back in her head, and she cries out.

"What's wrong with her?" I ask. My voice cracks and I swallow back the lump in my throat.

Victor frowns. "I believe she's trying to wake up."

He looks to me, his face is grim. "But we need to get her fever down now, or she'll have no chance at all."

Victor immediately starts giving orders, detaching himself personally, going into full doctor mode.

He sends Malcolm to get cold rags from the kitchen and pulls out a syringe.

"Ethan, keep her down."

I do as I'm told and I hold her on either side with the gentle force of my hands. She cries in protest, tears streaking down her face. I want to pull her in my arms and tell her everything's going to be okay.

 _But that would be a lie._

 _I don't know that everything is going to be okay._

She goes limp beneath my hands when Victor inserts the needle in her arm.

The rest of the night is spent washing her down with cool rags and replacing the clear glass drip that the doctor says will help to rehydrate her.

It's all we can do. The rest is up to Vanessa.

Her fever breaks with the dawn, and we all breathe a little easier. After checking her over once more, Victor retires to the guestroom. Sir Malcolm follows suit shortly after, giving me a reassuring smile as he passes.

"The worst of it is over. Come and get me when she wakes up." I nod and close the door behind him.

I sink into the chair beside the bed and take her hand.

It's warm.

I smile and rest my head next to our intertwined hands, feeling myself slip into the deepest sleep I've had in four days.

I wake a few hours later, to a light pressure against my palm.

She's waking up.

I lean against the bed and stroke my hand down her face.

"Vanessa?" I whisper

"Can you hear me?" She frowns and tightens her grip in my other hand.

I feel a single tear slip down my face. "You can open your eyes. You're safe now."

I watch her face scrunch in concentration. Her eyelids flutter once, twice, and then open fully.

She blinks, rapidly for a moment, taking in her surroundings.

Then her eyes meet mine.

"Ethan." She breathes.

And I'm met with the most breathtaking smile. The red that once marred the beautiful blue irises is now nowhere in sight.

 **A/N: Vanessa has come back to us! Hope you enjoyed reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it! Next chapter will be from Vanessa's POV.**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: New chapter! This one will be from Vanessa's POV. Hopefully, I did her justice. And thank you all for your wonderful reviews on the last three chapters:) I'm so happy you have liked this story thus far! Don't be afraid to throw in some constructive criticism if it's needed! I'm open to suggestions;)**

 **Happy reading and R &R!**

 **All Rights Reserved to John Logan.**

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Maybe you should lay back down."

I roll my eyes and look over my shoulder, at the large body hovering nervously beside me; ready to catch me if I fall.

"Ethan, if I have to spend one more moment cooped up in this room I think I may go mad."

He raises his hands in exaggerated surrender.

"Well we can't have that now can we darlin'."

I smile at the endearment and continue my slow trek across the room.

"But will you at least hold onto my arm?" He asks.

I'm about to protest when I see the worry buried deep in his beautiful brown orbs. And even though I'd never admit it aloud, I'm feeling more than a little shaky.

But I _need_ a change of scenery.

So without further objection I take hold of his arm, his warmth steadying me instantly, and let him lead me downstairs.

OooooooooO

Everyone stands as we enter the main room, and I look around at the people before me.

 _Sir Malcolm, Victor, Catriona, and Dr. Seward._

 _They are all here._

Their faces alight with such relief and affection; it brings tears to my eyes.

Sir Malcolm is the first to approach, taking my hand and squeezing it tenderly.

"My dear, how good it is to see you on your feet again."

I look up at the man who has become like a father to me; grateful he's still here after all the hurt I've brought to our lives.

"As am I."

The rest follow suite, giving kind words and gentle smiles. Ethan stands off to my right, leaning against the arm of the couch, giving me space, though I'm aware of his eyes on me the whole time.

It is well past sunset by the time our guests take their leave, with vows of returning soon, and the exertions of the day have started to wear on me.

"Well, I think I'm going to call it a night." Sir Malcolm says, coming over to place a kiss on my forehead, before retreating tiredly up the steps.

I watch him go. Knowing these past few days have been hard on him.

 _On everyone._

I turn to Ethan, who's adding more wood to the dying fire, looking as exhausted as I feel.

 _When was the last time he slept in a proper bed?_

Noticing my gaze, he comes over to sit by my side, not touching but close enough to feel each other's warmth. We sit like this for a while, watching the flames dance atop the blackened wood.

Ethan's the first to break the silence.

"May I ask you something?" He looks a bit unsure.

"Anything," I whisper.

He turns his whole body to face me and softly takes my hands in his. I look down at our intertwined fingers; his thumb is making soothing circles across my knuckles. I don't even think he knows he's doing it, but the simple action causes warmth to spread across my chest, settling deep in my heart.

 _It feels nice_.

I'm snapped from my daze when Ethan takes a deep breath, and my eyes shoot back up to his.

"Did you see him?"

 _Ah._

I don't have to ask who he's talking about because I've been waiting for this question since the moment I opened my eyes.

Ethan takes the silence as my answer. Quickly shaking his head, he looks to me with apologetic eyes.

"Christ, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have—" He goes to get up, but I keep my hand on his, willing him to stay.

"Wait." It comes out hoarse, and I clear my throat.

 _He has every right to know what I saw. He was the one who killed Dracula after all._

"The answer to your question is no, I didn't see him. I didn't see anything."

Ethan looks confused at this but doesn't interrupt me. Instead he gives my fingers an encouraging squeeze to continue.

"I was in a dark room, too dark to see." I shiver as the memories make their way back to me. "It was cold, and I could hear the echoes of someone crying out. My cries and Sir Malcolm's " I feel my voice crack and a tear makes its trail down my cheek. "And you."

"It went on for what seemed like an eternity, and then it just stopped, and I heard something else." I'm looking directly in his eyes now. "It was your voice. Telling me, I was safe. And I knew then that everything was going to be okay. That I wasn't alone."

He brings his hand up to cup my cheek, kindly wiping the falling tears with his thumb.

"You will never have to be alone again. This I promise you." He says it like an apology, guilt thick in his voice.

"I forgive you." Is all I say, hoping to relieve some of the sorrow in his eyes.

It works. He leans in to place his lips to my hair, breathing in my scent. Almost like he's afraid I'll disappear. Then he stands up and holds out his hand.

"It's late. Let's get you to bed."

Placing my hand in his offered one, we quietly make our way back up the stairs to my room.

Ethan starts up the fire while I turn down the covers and silently lay down. He goes to sit on the sofa next to my bed, but I reach out and catch his arm, stopping him. He looks down at me, confusion on his tired face.

I should tell him to go back to his room and sleep in his bed, but I don't want to be alone. So, I pat the spot next to me.

"You need a proper night's sleep, and I must confess I am not ready to face the night on my own just yet." I feel an embarrassed blush creep across my cheeks at my revelation, but keep my eyes on Ethan's.

He doesn't say anything, just walks soundlessly to the other side of the bed, the mattress sinking under his weight.

It doesn't feel awkward or strange. _It feels right._

Turning to face him, pulling the sheets up to my chin. He reaches out and brushes a lock of hair behind my ear, his eyes searching my face.

"Thank you." I murmur.

He gives me a sleepy smile and closes his eyes. "Goodnight Vanessa."

"Goodnight Ethan."

And I'm lulled to sleep by the steady breaths next to me.

 **A/N: Vanessa is a bit harder to write, than Ethan is, but hopefully I caught some of her essences. Hoped you enjoyed this chapter and I'll try and get the next one up soon!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: This chapter is from Vanessa's POV again, because where chapter 4 left off, I felt it should be continued with her thoughts. Thank you for the follows and the favs and lovely reviews for this little fic! It encourages me to write more;) And also I realized that the last chapter was a bit short so, to make up for that, I've made this one longer:)**

 **Happy Reading and R &R!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own (sadly) Penny Dreadful and/or its characters, it belongs to the one and only John Logan.**

I am awakened by a considerably, warm body pressed against my back, and a heavy arm draped unartfully across my stomach.

 _Apparently, his subconscious has thrown all propriety out the window._

I want to roll my eyes.

 _But since when have we ever worried about what others think?_

Slowly circling around, I crane my neck to get a better look at the man next to me.

He's younger in sleep, almost boyish. His shortly cropped hair is slightly disheveled, and the lines of stress around his eyes have vanished with the dawn.

I lightly, so not to wake him, brush my index finder along his thick eyebrows and then continue down his straight nose, reveling in the fact that he is here with me.

 _He truly is beautiful._

His eyelids flutter, and I hold my breath, waiting. But he stays asleep, tightening his hold on me. I close my eyes, breathing in his comforting scent.

 _He smells of earth and smoke and something else that is entirely Ethan._

With a silly grin on my face, I fall happily back to sleep.

OooooooooO

The next time I wake, I am alone.

Reaching out to the vacant spot next to me, I notice it is still warm.

 _I must have just missed him._

Curious as to where Ethan is I pull on my shawl and make my way down the hall. The delicious scent of brewing tea and coffee wafts its way through the house and, I smile in victory as I make it to the end of the steps without assistance.

I enter the kitchen unnoticed. His back is to me, and I watch as he pours steaming tea into my favorite teacup.

"I had no idea you were so domestic, Mr. Chandler." I tease, settling into one of the chairs at the table.

He looks my way, his eyes almost shy.

 _Ethan Chandler, shy? Never._

"And you have a light step, Miss Ives." He jests back

"Oh, and Sir Malcolm left a note for you, saying that there was some business he needed to attend to in town." Reaching into his vest pocket, Ethan pulls out a folded parchment with Malcolm's scrawl on it.

I read it.

 _Back in a week? What business, I wonder?_

Ethan hands me my cup and sits in the chair across from me.

Folding the note back I murmur a thank you and take a sip of the soothing liquid, relishing in the way it thaws me from the inside out, warming my insides. These past few days have left a cold chill that has seemingly settled to my bones.

When I open my eyes, I find Ethan watching me, a look in those auburn eyes so intense I almost glance away.

"What is it?" I ask

He blinks and then clears his throat. "I was just thinking of how good it is being here again. You and Sir Malcolm are the only family I have left."

His confession sends a jolt to my heart.

I don't know what happened while he was away in America, but whatever it was, made an impact on him. I want to ask, but I know he will tell me when he is ready to.

 _I won't push him._

Reaching across the table, I squeeze his wrist. "Thank you for staying with me last night."

I hold his gaze, hoping he can read in my eyes, just how much it meant to me.

He smiles kindly. "Of course."

"You are, I think, the first person I have ever slept in a bed with," I look down embarrassed, "Aside from Mina when we were girls, of course."

I don't know why I tell him this. It just sort of came out. I have kept so many things to myself for so long, that perhaps I just needed him to know this one thing.

So before he can say anything, I finish the remnants of my tea and stand up.

"It is such a lovely day, and I could use the fresh air, perhaps a walk?

OooooooooO

Every day for the next week Ethan makes my tea in my preferred cup, and if the weather holds, we stroll through the streets of London until our feet ache. In the evening we pass a cigarette back and forth, sharing stories of our youth while steering clear of dark subjects. And each night he stays with me, always leaving one candle burning.

This becomes our routine, our ignorant bliss, of which we both know, will ultimately shatter.

And it does. The night before Sir Malcolm is set to return.

I draw the curtains closed with a harsh tug, shutting out the view of the storm outside.

Usually, I would leave them open and watch the world outside my window, come alive with each distant rumble of thunder.

But not tonight.

Ethan is blowing out all the candles, but the one and if he detects anything out of the ordinary he doesn't mention it.

But from the way he is watching me from the corner of his eye, I know he senses something is off.

I climb into bed and face away from his worried glances.

 _Maybe I just need to rest. I'll be better tomorrow._

"Goodnight," I whisper.

I close my eyes and will myself to sleep.

When I open my eyes, it is not the familiar surroundings of my room, nor is there a warm body next to mine. Instead, I'm met with white padded walls and an iron door.

The white room from my stay in the hospital.

 _I'm dreaming, surely._

I squeeze my eyes shut, _wake up, wake up_.

 _"_ _Vanessa…"_

My head shoots up, and I look around, my eyes stopping at the figure sitting in the corner of the room.

 _John Clare_.

Or at least him, from before his accident.

 _He never did tell me his name…_

Relief seeps into my bones, at the sight of him, and I feel my feet move across the floor until I'm resting my head in his lap.

Tender hands stroke my hair and then cup my face so that I am looking straight into his eyes.

I draw back.

They are neither the forgiving blue or the kind yellow eyes, of the man sitting before me. No, these eyes are as black as night, and they are more familiar than I'd like to admit.

I try and wrench my face from his bruising grip, wrapping my hands around his wrists and pulling with all the strength in me.

It doesn't work; he is too strong.

"You." I rasp out.

He stands up, dragging me with him until I am backed against the padded wall. "Yes."

"Why?"

He laughs, it's a cold hollow sound, and it sends chills up my spin.

"Don't you see? He hisses, "The dragon is dead, and you are now mine for the taking."

"So why don't you?" I ask.

Why didn't he come for me after Dracula was killed when I was at my most vulnerable? It would have been easy for him to just slip into my mind and take me.

Then it hits me.

"You can't can you? There is something blocking me from you."

This demon has shown his face to me countless of times, has brought out this horrid darkness inside of me, but he has never actually been able to consume me fully.

 _Why_ I wonder…

I look into his black eyes.

He breathes harshly, tightening his fingers against my cheeks, which have started to go numb.

"If you think I can't get to you, then my dear, you are wrong. It has already begun, that darkness you feel will only get harder to control. You are letting your guard down."

He runs his nose along my face, breathing deeply. "I'll be seeing you soon Vanessa."

And then he is gone. Leaving me alone in the white room.

I push myself off the wall and try the door.

It's locked.

I let out a sob and slide down to the floor.

 _Why am I not waking up?_

My eyes are closed, and I'm focusing on my breathing when I hear it.

My name.

I squeeze my eyes tighter and follow the faint voice in my head, leading me back out of the darkness.

OooooooooO

"Vanessa, wake up!"

My eyes snap open and focus on Ethan's worried face. "Christ." He breathes, crushing me to him.

I cling to him, my tears soaking into his night shirt. Shaking with adrenaline, I reach up and pull his face down to mine, brushing my lips with his.

He tenses and in the back of my mind I can hear him telling me to stop. But I don't stop. Instead I drag my lips down to his neck, trying to stir this emptiness taking place inside me.

With desperate fingers, I start unbuttoning his shirt, but Ethan's hands are there in an instant, gently pushing mine away.

"Vanessa stop." My eyes widen at the harshness in his voice.

Covering my hand over my mouth, I try, but fail to hold back a sob. Mortified, I begin to untangle myself from his lap, but the hands covering mine, stop me.

"Don't think for a minute that I don't want to," he whispers, "Because I do."

He gently brushes a sweaty strand of hair from my face.

"But not like this," He smiles sadly, "When the time comes I want it to just be you and me, with nothing between us."

I nod and place my head against his chest. "I want that too."

And I do, so much it makes my heart ache.

 **A/N: So, the plot thickens for Ethan and Vanessa…It seems like these two can never catch a break!**

 **And what business did Sir Malcolm go into town for? Next chapter will be from Ethan's POV. Also, for those who asked about Mr. Clare, he will be making an appearance soon;) Hoped you enjoyed this chapter!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Hello dear readers! I apologize for the delay in updating, as I was recovering from eye surgery and dealing with family drama *inserting eye roll* but all is well now, and I am happy to be back with this story;) This chapter is going to be from Ethan's POV and I am also introducing a new character, of whom I hope you all will like:)**

 **Don't be shy about putting in your input; I'm always looking to improve, and I love hearing from you guys!**

 **Happy Reading and R &R!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Penny Dreadful. All Rights to John Logan and his brilliant mind.**

Vanessa sits in the chair across from me, sipping her tea absentmindedly. The orange light of the fire is enveloping her ebony hair in a warm glow, sending the shadow of her silhouette, dancing across the wall. It is just after dawn and having been too keyed up to try and sleep after last night's occurrences, Vanessa set the kettle, while I tended to the fire. The storm had left the sky bleak and the air bitter.

 _Seems fitting,_ I think wryly.

One battle fought and another takes its place. A never ending cycle.

 _Will we ever have a moment's peace?_

At least, this time, we have somewhat of an advantage. We know the Demon is by some means unable to take full control of Vanessa. What's blocking him from her, we don't know, but I'll be damned if I let her get taken away again. We'll be ready this time. All of us.

I'm pulled from my thoughts by a raspy voice.

"I must apologize for my actions last night; It was very aberrant of me."

I turn to look at her; it's the first time she's spoken since coming down stairs, and she won't meet my gaze.

I blink. _She's ashamed_.

My heart breaks for her a little at the realization. Here is a woman, who has been hunted and violated, in more ways than one, by searching forces, not of this world and has still managed to pick herself up every day and keep going. And yet she's embarrassed by seeking comfort from the darkness of a dream.

I cross the room and kneel in front of her, gently tipping her chin towards me.

"Look at me." I murmur, searching her face. The skin at her jaw is slightly discolored with developing bruises.

 _They will be worse tomorrow,_ I think, gently soothing my index finger across one.

Swallowing hard, I pushing back the anger bubbling up inside me at the sight of them.

She blinks, lashes wet with tears. One makes its way down her pastel cheek, and I watch as it lightly drops onto the hand I have at her jawline.

"Vanessa." I breathe.

The desperation I feel must be evident in my voice because she finally raises those stormy blues to meet mine.

"Listen to me. Don't ever be ashamed of wanting solace, of wanting to feel something. Not with me, not ever." Taking my hand from her face, I clasp it over her folded ones and whisper, "You've been lonely for far too long."

She lets out a shaky breath at the truth of my words, and I continue.

"Let me in. I am here to oppose this darkness with you. There's no need to bare it alone any longer." I need her to know I'm in this with her for the long run. That I won't be going anywhere.

She gives me a small nod, letting me know she understands. Her watery eyes are sad, and they express more than any words ever could. She's tired. Tired of the constant battle within her.

I immediately sit next to her pulling her thin frame against my chest to where she's almost in my lap. I stroke her hair and she clutches my arm, burying her cheek against my linen shirt, taking the comfort I offer.

OooooooooO

We must have fallen asleep because the next thing I know, I'm being shaken awake by Sir Malcolm, who then silently gestures me into the kitchen. I notice the morning light has faded into that of dusk.

 _We slept all day._

Dragging a hand over my face, I look down at the woman next to me, her legs are tangled with mine and the arm she's laying on has fallen asleep.

Quietly and with great care I manage to detangle myself, placing her shawl back over her shoulders. The fire has long been out, and the room is now chilled by the autumn air.

When I enter the kitchen, I find Sir Malcolm preparing three cups of tea.

I frown, my brain fuzzy from sleep. _Why three if Vanessa is still sleeping?_

"Ethan," I look up from the cups and into the older man's eyes. "There is someone I'd like you to meet."

 _Ah, that must be who the third cup is for. And his reason for going into town._

Sir Malcolm nods, his eyes focusing on someone behind my shoulder.

"This is Aseema. She will be staying with us for the time being."

I turn, following his gaze.

Startling at the figure before me I take a step back and glance at Sir Malcolm who is watching me carefully, gauging my reaction.

"You must be Ethan Chandler." The girl says in a softly accented voice. "I've heard a lot about you, Sir."

I don't say anything. I _can't_ say anything; the words stick in my throat.

She's young, probably a few years younger than Vanessa. There are strange markings, a tattoo of sorts, running from her temples down to her neck, then disappearing into the collar of her dress. But it's her eyes that astonish me. They are a dark brown. _Familiar._ And they look like they have been around for a hundred years. I only knew one other person with eyes like that. And that person is gone, because of me. Dead. Buried in the African dirt.

 _Sembene._

It is like looking at a ghost.

"Sembene was my Father," Aseema reveals as if reading my thoughts. And from the way she's watching me, I am almost convinced she can. "He wrote about you in his letters to me. All of you." She glances to the main room where Vanessa sleeps.

I clear my throat and take a seat in the chair nearest to me.

"I never knew he had a daughter." I look over to Sir Malcolm. "Did you?"

He shakes his head.

"Sembene was a private man. I did not know until a year after he had come to London with me."

Aseema joins me at the table, clasping her hands around her cup.

"I assume you know of my Fathers previous employment, before coming here?" She asks.

I nod, encouraging her to continue.

"When I was but twelve years old, our village was raided. Father worked just outside the village, as a fisherman, so he was not home when they attacked. They took my Mother and me. We were separated, auctioned off to buyers from around the globe. I never saw her again. Word is she died before the ship she was on even made it to America." She pauses, taking a deep breath. "I got lucky. I was bought by a wealthy Frenchmen and was taken to a house in the country, where I became his house maid. The work was hard, but I was never treated too harshly. After two years, there became word from the others slaves that there was a man inquiring about someone with my name. A slave trader."

 _So that must have been the reason behind it. To find his daughter._

"It took one more year for him to find me. When he did, my owner set a value for my freedom. A significant value, much more than my Father could ever afford. Taking sympathy, my master allowed us to converse through letters until my Father could come up with the sum." Aseema looks to Sir Malcolm, a small smile gracing her mouth. "And that's when he met you. After moving to London, he would send whatever he could back. It took years but finally I was free. And then I got the letter telling me of his passing. That's when I encountered Sir Malcolm. He paid for my passage here, once the fog cleared, you see."

I look down at my hands, digging my nails into the skin of my palm. Guilt spreads through me like a flesh eating virus, and I look up to the young girl, an apology on the tip of my tongue. She stops me, though, before I can and raises her left hand to her heart.

"I know." Is all she says.

How she knows, I cannot say but from the sad smile on her marked face, I know she does not blame me.

It doesn't make the guilt any less, though.

No one says anything for a while after that. We sit in silence; the only sounds are the clinking of the china against their saucers.

"May I see her?"

I understand immediately who she is referring to.

 _Vanessa._

I look to Sir Malcolm, waiting for him to answer her, but find him looking to me. Glancing to Aseema, I realize she is not asking Malcolm, she is asking me.

I nod, "Yes, but she is sleeping maybe—"

"It matters not." She interrupts. Pushing herself up from the table she walks into the room where the woman in question is resting.

Sir Malcolm and I quickly follow suite.

OooooooooO

Vanessa is just as I left her. She looks peaceful; her dark locks are curled around her face, and she has one arm thrown above her head.

I feel like chuckling; she would be mortified if she knew we were all observing her in slumber.

Turning my attention back to our new guest, I watch as she kneels quietly in front of Vanessa. For a few moments, she just sits there, observing until she closes her eyes and puts a small hand to Vanessa's forehead.

Vanessa lets out a small whimper but doesn't wake.

I frown, _what is she doing?_

My eyes are only on Vanessa now, watching her reaction. Her face scrunches up this time, and Aseema gently runs a hand down the length of her face, as if washing away something. Her face immediately relaxes, and Vanessa lets out a long sigh. Aseema then ceases her ministrations and turns her head up to look at me. She has a look in her eye, which does not go unnoticed by me and she gives me a thoughtful smile.

"You love her very much."

It's a statement, not a question, and it takes me by surprise.

 _I don't know what I was expecting, but it definitely wasn't that._

I feel Sir Malcolm's stare, but I ignore it.

"Yes," I say, but I'm not looking at either of them, my only focus is on the sleeping woman before us. "If there is only one thing I am sure of in this dreadful world, it is that."

 **A/N: So there's chapter 6! I hope you all liked the new character:) and if you have any questions, please feel free to ask away!**

 **Also, I know there wasn't much dialogue for Vanessa this chapter, but do not fret! The next one will be from her POV, and we get to hear her thoughts on their new guest! ;)**

 **Until next chapter!**

 **-S**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Thank you all who took the time to leave a review! This chapter is much later than I would have liked, but life got in the way this week, so I do apologize. I am so glad you all liked the new character, as I was a bit apprehensive about writing her in;)**

 **This chapter is from Vanessa's POV.**

 **Happy Reading and R &R!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Penny Dreadful or its characters and storyline.**

The room is shining with morning light. It is too bright to be the main room, and from the all too familiar ceiling, I know I must be in my room. But I don't remember how I got here.

 _Ethan must have carried me to bed at some point._

Thinking of Ethan, I glance over to the spot next to me. It is vacant, and apart from a few wrinkles from my sleep, the covers remain made.

Untouched.

 _He must not have slept here last night._

My heart sinks a little, and I frown, wondering how I slept so well without him lying next to me. I haven't slept alone since being back.

Feeling like a frivolous school-girl, I quickly push down my disappointment at the thought.

 _Perhaps Sir Malcolm made it home, and that's why he didn't come to bed…_

And with that in consideration, I set about getting dressed for the day.

Opting for something a bit sunnier than my usual black attire, I choose a cream blouse and a dark plum skirt and pin my hair in its usual twist.

Feeling bare without some semblance of the dark color, I reach for a black felt belt and a pair of black dangle earrings.

Black has always felt like a shield of sorts. In an emotional sense. Like if I wear it, nothing can touch me. Of course, given my past experiences, it's not true, but it still feels like a small comfort.

With a last glance in the mirror, I go in search for Ethan.

As I'm reaching the end of the stairs, the front door opens, sending a blast of crisp air across my face. And I feel myself smile when I see who it is.

"Ethan." I breathe coming down the last few steps to greet him.

His eyes are bright, and his cheeks are rosy from the cold morning air, and I suddenly have the urge to cup his face in my hands and warm them. But I restrain myself. Instead, I stand at arm's length clasping my hands together.

He places his coat on the hook and turns to look at me. His eyes glancing over my dress before resting on my face. He doesn't say anything, but there is a soft smile playing on his lips.

I raise my eyebrows.

"I do believe, Mr. Chandler, that it is ungentlemanly of you to stare so blatantly." I tease, but my heart quickens at the way he is gazing at me. It is different somehow than all the other looks he's given me.

Shaking out of his thoughts, Ethan clears his throat.

"You are a vision this morning, Miss Ives." He says it in response to my jest, but his eyes betray him.

 _Something has changed since last night,_ I think.

Only, I just can't put my finger on what that change could be.

But it makes me nervous and excited at the same time.

He then offers me his arm, which I happily take without a second thought.

"Come," He says. "There is someone you must meet."

 _I'll pester him about it later._

OooooooooO

Looking curiously around the room, I spot Sir Malcolm sitting by the fire, engaging in what seems like meaningful conversation with a young girl I've not seen before.

 _Who is she?_ I wonder.

I glance up at Ethan in question, but he only squeezes my arm in response and looks to the two other people in the room.

"Mornin." He interrupts, causing the girl to turn to us.

She smiles in acknowledgment.

I take in a sharp breath when I see her familiar eyes.

She has Sembene written all over her.

 _His daughter maybe?_

"Yes."

I blink, realizing no one else had said anything.

She was talking to me.

Shocked, I release my grip from Ethan's arm and move to the sofa where this peculiar girl is sitting.

"You can see into my mind." I don't say this as a question because I already know the answer.

She nods and takes my arm, pulling me down to sit next to her. I oblige.

"My name is Aseema, and it fills me with great pleasure to finally be able to meet you officially, Miss."

"Oh, please call me Vanessa." I insist, hoping to disperse any formalities.

She nods and places her hand over the one resting in my lap. "Vanessa then."

Her accent draws out the 's' in my name and I can't help but smile. Her voice is just as gentle as Sembene's was, and I feel a tug in my chest, wishing he was still here with us.

I let my eyes wander over to Ethan for a second. He gives me a bittersweet smile in understanding, and I know this must be harder on him than anyone else in the room.

Sir Malcolm clears his throat causing Aseema to let go of my hand and straighten next to me. Her attention focused fully on what he is about to say.

"Before you graced us with your presence this morning," he says this warmly and looks to me with affectionate eyes, "We were discussing the matters of the dream you experienced."

 _Oh._

I feel my cheeks warm with embarrassment, and I narrow my eyes towards Ethan.

 _How much did he tell them?_

Aseema notices my stare and instantly intervenes.

"Ethan only told us what was necessary, Mis-, I mean Vanessa, I assure you." She expresses this in Ethan's defense. Though by saying so, I know she knows about my breakdown afterwords.

I blink, casting an eye over to Malcolm. He only nods in agreement.

Ethan holds my stare, unblinking. Silently communicating with those intense brown eyes of his.

 _Of course, he would never tell. It was a private moment for the both of us._

"I only thought it was best to seek some advice on how to handle it if you were ever to have another." Ethan explains.

Feeling my shoulders relax slightly, I give Ethan a small smile in apology, before turning to Aseema.

"Do you know what this demon wants from me?" I inquire.

Though in the back of my mind, I think I already know.

Aseema shakes her head.

"From what I can interpret from the vision, I believe he wants to control you, body and soul," She looks straight into my eyes, "But you already know that don't you?"

My throat constricts and I swallow hard.

"Yes." I reply, my voice raspy.

From across the room, I hear Ethan take in a sharp breath. I turn to look at him as he starts pacing the floor, dragging a hand through his cropped hair.

"The real question here is, what's stopping him?" He questions.

Ethan's right. We know what he wants, but we don't know what is hindering him. In my dream, it was almost as if I was just out of the reaching point.

Bringing my attention back to Aseema I ask, "Do you think looking into my mind will help?"

Normally I would hate the idea of someone picking through the dark corridors of my head, but given the situation, I am willing to try anything.

Aseema sighs.

"I've already looked last night while you were resting."

 _While I was sleeping! How did I not know someone was peeking around up there?_

She must see the alarmed expression on my face because she laughs softly.

"The best time to search in one's head is while they are asleep, all the guards are down then."

"And could you see what could be blocking this demon?" I query.

She only shakes her head.

"You must have seen something." I press.

Surely she must have.

"Ethan." She mummers, "All I saw was Ethan."

Ethan's pacing ceases at this revelation, and I lean back against the cushions, perplexed.

"Wait, that's it!" Aseema exclaims after a short silence.

My brow furrows.

"What's it?" Ethan asks, equally confused.

"When I looked into Vanessa's mind and all I saw was you. But I didn't think anything of it until now." She looks to Ethan with a light of excitement in her eyes. "It's you. You are the blocking force between Vanessa and this demon."

Ethan blinks, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"It makes sense," He says.

He's right. It makes perfect sense. Ethan was the one who stood between Dracula and me, after all.

The Wolf of God. My protector.

Surely it must be the same for this demon.

"And how would we proceed, if I were to encounter him in my sleep again?" I ask. Ethan won't be able to do anything if he's inside my head.

Sir Malcolm walks over to the hearth, pouring himself a drink.

"I was thinking we should consult Miss Hartdegen on the matter," he offers, "It is after all her expertise."

I chew on a loose cuticle for a moment before nodding.

"Yes, I think that is wise. I will call upon her tomorrow."

Maybe she will be able to shed some light on what we are dealing with.

OooooooooO

We spend the rest of the day searching ancient books in attempt to find information about this creature who lurks about in the corners of my head. Unfortunately, we all come up short.

Aseema and Sir Malcolm take their leave a little after sunset, leaving Ethan and me alone in the dimly lit room.

After several long minutes I hear Ethan yawn, and close his book with a soft _thud._

"Vanessa," His voice is gruff from lack of use, and he comes over to where I'm sitting. "Let's go to bed. We've done all we can for today."

I sigh, knowing he's right. So I hum in agreement and turn out the lamp next to me, sending the room into darkness.

Once in the room, I set about lighting candles.

When the last one is lit, I blow out the match and notice Ethan watching me. He's still by the door, and the look from this morning is back in his eyes.

"What?" I ask, feeling embarrassed.

He walks towards me and gently takes the used match from my hand and places it behind me on the ledge above the fireplace.

I take in a deep breath and close my eyes, letting his warm scent invade my senses.

"I want to tell you something." He whispers, "Something I should have told you a long time ago."

I feel him reach up and stroke a hand down my cheek.

"I'm in love with you Vanessa Ives."

I open my eyes to find his brown orbs already staring intently at me, searching my face for a reaction.

I feel myself smile at him, and I take a step closer.

"And I you, Ethan Chandler." I whisper back.

A single tear has escaped from his eye, and I bring my hand up to softly wipe it away. He catches my hand and holds it against his cheek while his other arm wraps itself around my waist, pulling me against him.

I inhale.

And then his lips are on mine.

It's fierce at first. Almost as if making up for lost time. He tastes like the whiskey he was drinking earlier, and warmth spreads from my chest down to the tips of my toes.

I groan quietly as he brings his hand up to run through my hair.

When we pull back for air, we are both breathing heavily. Our chests rising and falling in unison.

He cups my face between his hands and kisses me again.

This time, it is gentle and warm and safe.

 **A/N: They kiss finally! I hope I did it justice;)**

 **Until next chapter!**

 **-S**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I did not expect for it to be this long since I last updated. Let's just say College homework has taken over my life…Cliché I know, but it's true!**

 **For chapter 8, I have added lots of Ethanessa fluff (though I do hope I haven't gone over the top with it) I felt like the show ended just when these two could've been something:( Well since we can't change that ending I guess there is no use crying over spilled milk, and that is why fanfiction was created;)**

 **Anyways, I do hope you enjoy this chapter and Happy Readings to all! R &R!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not, nor will I ever own Penny Dreadful or its characters. All rights to John Logan, who crushed all our fragile hearts.**

 **Vanessa's POV**

I wake up to the feel of gentle kisses tracing along my jawline. I smile but keep my eyes closed, feigning sleep.

Ethan continues his demonstrations until his lips are at the corner of my mouth, then slightly hovering over my lips. Holding my breath, I wait for the press of his against mine, but a moment later he has his face buried against my neck, his beard tickling the sensitive skin there.

Opening my eyes, I let out a surprised gasp.

He chuckles in response.

"I knew you were awake."

Laughing I push him away, and slide up against the headboard, glaring playfully at him.

"You are incorrigible."

He gives me a goofy grin in return, and moves closer so that his face is mere inches from mine.

"How'd you sleep?" he asks.

I let my eyes drift across his face, drinking him in. His skin is flushed, and his eyes are sparkling warmly in the early morning light. I know I must look the same.

We did not go further than our kisses the night before, both agreeing it is best to wait until we know how powerful this demon is inside my head. But we had laid there, in the dark, my head on his chest, listening to its steady beats, while he twirled my hair between his fingers. We stayed like that, in our own safe haven, until sleep overtook us.

It's hard to describe the shift between us. It is almost unexplainable. It's like there is this new intimacy that was not there before, but at the same time, it is that same easy, comforting closeness we have had since day one.

"The best I've slept in ages," I reply.

Leaning in, I give him a chaste kiss and slide out of bed, shivering when my feet hit the cold floor. Ethan gives a grumble of protest but gets up with me.

I go about taming my dark locks as Ethan walks over to the dresser to splash cool water on his face from the pitcher there. I watch him.

There is something uniquely domestic in going through the everyday motions with somebody. Waking up next to someone, getting ready for the day together, are all are things entirely new to me.

I am pulled from my thoughts when Ethan walks up behind me, patting his face dry with a towel.

"Are you meeting with Miss Hartdegen today?" He asks.

Setting down my brush, I look at him through the reflection in the mirror.

"Yes, I have arranged for the carriage to pick me up at ten o'clock."

He nods, but I can see that something is bothering him. It dawns on me, what it is.

"You don't want me going alone." It's not a question.

He snorts.

"Are you sure Aseema's the only mind-reader in this house?"

I narrow my eyes at him through the mirror. He sighs.

"I just don't think you should be alone right now."

Now it's my turn to snort. He of all people should know I hate to be treated like something made of glass. He knows very well I am not.

I walk over to my wardrobe and began sorting out my day clothes.

There is a knock at the door.

Ethan clears his throat and goes to open it. It is Aseema.

"Sir Malcolm would like to know if you will be joining him for morning tea and coffee in the main room."

I nod and give her a slight smile, and Ethan dismisses himself from the room.

"I'll just go and change." He says before closing the door behind him.

We both stare at the door and Aseema turns to look at me, her eyebrows raised in slight amusement.

"Men," I mutter under my breath and go back to my search for something to wear.

Aseema gives a soft chuckle and comes over to the wardrobe and pulls out a thick black skirt and a white long-sleeved blouse with black buttons trailing up to the neck.

I dress silently, thinking about Ethan.

"He's just worried is all." She says, reading my thoughts.

I take a deep breath, smoothing my skirt.

"I know," I reply.

And I do. We have both been through hell and back. He has every right to be worried. But for most of my cursed adult life, I have been independent. It will take some adjusting to. We will both need to learn to accept one another's limits.

Without having to voice my thoughts out loud, Aseema understands, and she only nods before heading towards the closed door.

"Come," she says, "Best not keep them waiting."

I follow quietly behind her.

ooooOOOoooo

When we walk in the room, Sir Malcolm is just coming through the kitchen with a tray of teacups. He smiles when he sees us.

"Ah, there you are, just in time."

I look around the room, searching for Ethan.

"Where is Ethan?" I inquire.

"He went for a walk," Sir Malcolm replies, "Said he needed some air."

I look to Malcolm, his eyes looking knowingly at me. He comes over and hands me a steaming cup. I take it gratefully.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

I shake my head.

Sir Malcolm gives my arm a tender squeeze.

"Whatever it is, I am sure it's nothing to be concerned about."

Taking a sip of my tea, I give him a small smile.

"I am sure you are right."

Maybe Ethan will be back before I leave. For now, I push my concerns to the back of my mind and scan the room.

In the corner of my eye, I see a hunched figure, at one of the desks in the back of the room, clearly absorb in his readings. My mood brightens considerably we I see who it is. Taking my tea, I walk over to him.

"Dr. Frankenstein," I greet, placing a hand on his shoulder.

He startles and hastily stands up, giving me an affectionate smile.

"Miss Ives," He says warmly, "You have regained your color."

I grin. Always the doctor.

"Thanks to you." I express. I never got to thank him for all he did while I was unwell.

We both sit and I glance over the pages he was reading.

They are filled with diagrams of skeletons. The skeletons of animals; Birds, cats, zebras, and wolves.

 _Wolves? Surely it's purely coincidental._

"Research?" I query.

He clears his throat and closes the book.

"Yes."

 _Why would he be looking at those?_

Before I can question him any further, the front door slides open and Ethan walks in. His eyes finding mine.

I put Victor's readings to the back of my mind for another time.

Victor stands when Ethan joins us, but I stay seated.

Ethan pulls his gaze away from mine and smiles easily at our friend.

"Dr. Frankenstein, I didn't expect to see you here."

They shake hands and Victor laughs.

"Research." Is all he says.

Ethan chuckles.

As they converse lightly, I notice an almost brotherly affection in both men's eyes. That must have happened while I was out of sorts.

I glance over to the clock and notice the time. Setting my cup on the table, I go over to Sir Malcolm, and plant a kiss on his cheek.

"I'll be back before dark," I promise.

Once my goodbyes have been said, I turn to Ethan.

"Come," he says, holding out his hand, "I'll walk you out."

Taking his hand, he leads me out of the room. And I can feel the curious stares of our company behind us.

OoooOOOoooo

The carriage is just arriving as we step outside. I turn to Ethan quickly, an apology and explanation on my tongue, but he stops me, shaking his head.

"I knew when I met you, that you were not like others," He exhales, his warm breath leaving puffs of white in the air. "There are things you need to do for yourself. I know that. But these past few months have been hell, and I'll be damned if I let anything happen to you."

"Thank you," I say. It's all I need to say.

He smiles, his shoulders relaxing, and cups his warm hands around my chilled cheeks, pulling me in for a gentle kiss.

"Just be careful."

I nod, and with a last squeeze of the hand, I climb into the awaiting carriage.

ooooOOOoooo

I find Catriona Hartdegen at the fencing club. I wave when I see her, and she walks over to me, taking off her white gloves.

"Come," she says, "Let me change, and we will go across the street to the café to talk."

Over drinks, I recount my dream. Not leaving anything out. When I'm finished, she sits back and circles her finger around the rim of the glass in concentration.

"Have you heard of this sort of _thing_ before?" I ask.

She nods.

"Demons can possess someone in a dream, just as they can in real life," She explains, "Though the one in your mind hasn't gotten that far yet."

"The blockage," I whisper.

"Yes, you have not yet given him permission, there is a greater force keeping you from doing so."

I absorb this and frown.

"I have rejected him before, so why does he think I will give him permission this time?" I ask, confused.

Catriona regards me with a serious expression.

"Did he offer you something last time?"

I nod, though I don't tell her what it was.

He had offered me a normal life. Life with Mina and Peter. Life with Ethan, and our children.

 _Claire and Charles_ …

Something akin to yearning runs through me at the thought of their little faces. I quickly dismiss the feeling and turn my attention back to Catriona.

"Demons," She states, "Are after one thing. Your soul. And they will bargain anything in exchange for that one thing."

She takes a gulp of her remaining drink and pushes my unfinished one towards me. She waits to continue until I finish mine.

I swallow it in one burning gulp.

"This demon of yours, though, seems to have taken a particular liking to you. And your vampire friend definitely did not help matters."

"So what does that mean?" I ask.

She chews on her lip for a moment before answering, "I don't know yet."

 **A/N: And a sort of cliffhanger…sorry guys!**

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter and feel free to leave some feedback, in fact, it is encouraged! I do love hearing your thoughts and suggestions.**

 **Until next chapter,**

 **-S**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Hello, my lovely readers! Hope all is well, and I am, again, sorry for the irregular updates on this story and I am immensely appreciative of your patience with me;) But do not fear, because I have no intention of abandoning this story, and I plan to see it through until the end.**

 **Rated T for adult situations**

 **Chapter 9 is from Vanessa's POV again. Enjoy!**

 **R &R! I love hearing your feedback!**

Pulling. Something is pulling at me, and I can't tell if my eyes are opened or closed as I stumble through the darkness.

Reaching out in front of me, I blindly feel around. My fingers scratch against frozen earth, and only then do I realize the numbness in my feet. It reminds me of the time Mina and I dared each other to run barefoot, through the snow-covered yard, when we were children. I wiggle my toes, trying to bring some warmth back into them, and listen for any familiar sounds.

Nothing. Silence.

The only sound is my frantic breathing, which I try to calm by taking in deep, gulping breaths. The air tastes damp and earthy. Like something underground.

Extending my arms outward, my palms hit a wall on either side. The pulling sensation stops. And for a second, I hold my breath. Then something cold clamps down on both my wrists.

No, not something, _someone_. Hands I realize, thin, long-fingered hands. The hair on the back of my neck prickles, and I fight the urge to look behind me, as another pair of thin hands pulls the hair away from my neck.

More hands join in. All cold and long, like the unliving.

Pulling, tugging, tearing away at me. I try to free myself, only to find myself unable to move. Paralyzed. And as those hands of death become desperate, hungry even, I do the only thing I can do.

I scream.

oooOOOooo

I jolt awake.

With wide eyes, I scan my surroundings, only to let out a sob of relief, when I see familiar brown eyes hovering above me in silent concern. The hands tightly gripping my shoulders, lessen slightly as I flinch back. I stop myself from shaking them off completely. These hands… these hands I know. They are warm and broad and alive. They are safe. So, unlike the ones that haunt me in my dreams.

"It was just a dream." Ethan soothes, gently brushing the damp hair away from my face.

He gets up from the bed and dampens a cloth from the bowl of water on the dresser, and walks quietly back to me. I let my eyes fall closed, my racing heart calming, as the cold cloth comes to contact with my flushed skin.

We both know it wasn't _just_ a dream. I've been having them for weeks now. Every night, since the evening I came back from my visit to Catriona.

They are not always the same. Some nights it's the Demon himself, taunting me with his onyx eyes. Other nights are the hands or something of a similar sense.

And every night Ethan is there, waiting for me on the other side of consciousness. He doesn't ask me what I see, doesn't pressure me to relive them. He is the steady lifeline in the dark of the night.

As I open my eyes to look at him now, I see the fatigue etched into the lines around his eyes, the worry there creasing his forehead.

With shaky fingers, I reach up and trace his temple, as if I could soothe the lines away.

"I'm sorry," I frown, my throat raw from my screams.

Ethan shakes his head, a smile touching his lips that don't quite reach his eyes.

"There is nothing to apologize for." He whispers, bringing his thumb to my forehead, rubbing the line that has formed there, just as I had done to his.

I give him a small smile in return.

Glancing to my right, I see the shadows of dawn peeking through my window, and I know that sleep is now out of the question.

So, with a sigh, I drag myself out of bed.

We won't talk about the dream for the rest of the day.

oooOOOooo

After my conversation with Catriona, she delved into research. Sending word only when she found something of use.

Which hasn't been very often, much to our growing frustration. Especially Ethan's.

She dropped by last week, to quickly deposit a stack of books she thought might be of use, saying she had sent word to Mr. Lyle about our situation.

Whilst waiting for his reply, Victor, Malcolm, Aseema, and Ethan and I have spent countless hours, studying the ancient books.

Ethan growls in frustration, closing a book with a sharp _thump._

"There is nothing in these god damned books!"

He catches my cautious gaze and runs a hand through his hair. It has grown an inch or two since he's been back.

And though he hasn't brought it up, the full moon is tomorrow night, and I know the dead ends in these books, are not the only cause of his rising weariness.

Aseema looks up from her spot next to Victor, closing her book in a calmer matter.

"There seems to be nothing in the histories, speaking of an exact manifestation as the one you are experiencing, Vanessa."

She was thoughtful for a moment before reaching across the desk and plucking the book from Victor's grasp, stacking it on top of hers.

To say the Doctor looked astonished was an understatement, and I had to press my lips together to keep from chuckling.

Aseema doesn't hide her smile at Victor's expression.

"I think," she says as she goes around the room gathering the books in one stack,"What we need, is a break."

Victor clears his throat as if to speak, but Aseema holds up a delicate finger, silencing him.

"I think we can all conclude," she continues, "That we are not making any progress. So, let us wait until we are in touch with this Mr. Lyle friend of yours until we go any farther."

And with that she takes her leave, heading into the kitchen.

We all look at each other before Sir Malcolm speaks up, amusement evident in his voice.

"Well, you heard the woman," He says, giving the Doctor a pat on the back before he follows Aseema into the kitchen.

"Maybe she is right," I say, "Let's just wait until we hear back from Mr. Lyle."

Victor just nodded his head and mumbled something under his breath, sounding distinctly like "mad woman," as he disappeared through the kitchen doors.

I allow myself a small chuckle and walk over to where Ethan is. I link my arm through his and give him a slight pull to bring him out of his thoughts.

"Care for a walk?"

OooOOOooo

The city of London is teeming with life, as we walk down the crowded, cobblestoned streets. I watch the people as we pass by.

 _What must life be like, to be unburdened from the dark forces of other realms?_

I don't allow myself to think on it too much, as I glance up at Ethan, bringing up a gloved hand to brush away a strand of hair that has escaped in the autumn breeze.

He's staring straight ahead, barely noticing the commotion around us. Usually, it is him, pulling me out of my thoughts during our walks, not the other way around.

"Hey," I say, nudging his side, "Where have you gone off too?"

He looks down at me as if just noticing where we are. "Sorry, lost in thought."

And then he smiles.

"I'm all yours now." He drawls, playfully nudging me back.

I see right through his attempt to hide his distraction, but I leave it alone for now.

I'll ask him about it when we are alone.

We wonder through the streets awhile longer, and Ethan stops to purchase us a bag of roasted chestnuts. I wait for him by one of the pillars in the square.

"Miss Ives?"

I turn to look behind me as I register the figure coming out of the shadows.

"Mr. Clare!" My eyes widen in delighted surprise, "I didn't expect to see you again."

He smiles warmly at me, though there is a haunted sadness in his beautiful, strange eyes.

"Nor did I, Miss," he rasps, "I went to see you a few weeks ago, but there was no answer."

I give his arm a gentle squeeze.

"Yes, I was… unwell." I pause, meeting the questions in his eyes, "But that is a story for another time. How are _you_ , Mr. Clare?"

He looks at something over my shoulder, and a look of awe sweeps across his scarred face. "That too is a story for another time, Miss." He raises his head, and I look behind me and see Ethan making his way over to us.

"I am happy for you, Miss Ives, so very happy."

And then he is gone. Back into the shadows.

"Who was that?" Ethan asks as we start our route back home.

"A dear friend, whom the world has been so unkind to." I give him a bittersweet smile before popping a chestnut into my mouth.

oooOOOooo

I walk through the threshold of my room, shedding my overcoat to the nearest chair and glance over my shoulder to find Ethan lingering by the door.

"Ethan?"

I frown at the pained expression on his face, as he looks at me. Like he's trying to decide on something.

"I think," he draws out a long breath, "I think it's best if I stay in my room."

A tightness creeps its way into my chest.

He must see the expression on my face because he hastily adds,

"Just for tonight."

The tightness eases a bit at that, but it still lingers. A plaguing reminder of how broken I still am. The thought of being alone again in this room frightens me more than I am willing to admit.

"Is this because of tomorrow night?" I ask.

 _The full moon._ The memories of the last time I had seen him transformed flood through my mind.

Ethan nods.

 _It was the day he left…_ I try to ignore the voice in my head, as I walk back to him, only stopping when I am a hands length away from him.

"Tell me."

He shifts beneath my gaze and looks at an invisible speck of dust on my shoulder.

"All day, I've had this feeling, a scratching at my skin, begging to be let out," Ethan keeps his gaze fixed away my mine as he speaks, like he's afraid of what I'll find in his eyes if he does, "It happens a few days before I turn, like the beast is letting me know it's almost time."

"There is always anger when I change, but this time is different," I watch him, silently struggle with the internal battle inside his head, as he chooses his next words carefully, "I feel this… swelling rage. Like I'll snap before I can control it. And I'm frightened by it."

He looks at me now, fresh, raw, emotion, swirling with the soft browns of his eyes. I take one step forward as he takes a step back, not allowing him to distance himself from me.

"And you think you will frighten me?" I state, rather than ask.

"Yes, and no," he says, "You've seen me, as the monster I become, and even though it should frighten you, you have never dismissed me."

"And here I stand."

Some of the tension leaves his shoulders, and the corner of his mouth tilts up. Though it's not quite a smile, it's better than the hard-set line he had at the beginning of our conversation.

"Yes," He softly utters, "Here you stand."

I chance a small, encouraging smile at his words. He needs to know that I accept him. All of him.

I huff a little at the lingering hesitation in his handsome features.

"You ridiculous man," I whisper, before doing the simplest thing in the world.

I kiss him. Not a long kiss. Just the mere brushing of our mouths.

Ethan goes still under my lips, and I pull back to regard him.

"You have always been so gentle with me," I rasp, "I have never known a time where I was ever frightened of you, -For you, yes, but never of you."

Reaching out, I stroke his cheek, the light stubble there tickling my palms. He closes his eyes, and lets out a deep breath, surrendering. The rest of the anxiety melting away.

My hands, having a mind of their own, glide up to trace the shell of his ear, before rubbing the soft flesh between my fingertips. I smile as he shivers, and takes an involuntary step into the room, closing most of the space between us.

Merely seconds later, he covers his hand over mine, stilling my movements, and opens his eyes. My breathing quickens when I see his brown orbs. Desire, trust, love, and a hint of nervousness, reflect back at me, dark with an intensity so strong I feel my skin flush.

Never taking his gaze from mine, he guides our joined hands until they are resting on his chest. From beneath his shirt, I feel his heart beating as fast as mine.

We stay like that until Ethan lifts his hand from mine, and slowly, as if not to stir the buzzing energy around us, places two fingers to the corner of my mouth, He begins to trace its outline, just as I had done with his ear.

Still watching him, I open my mouth and let out a hot breath. Surely he can hear the rapid thumps of my racing heart.

Letting my eyes fall closed, he trails his fingers along my nose, and then ghosts over my eyelids.

I don't know how long we stand like that, with him tenderly, tracing of my features. And I frown when he ceases his demonstrations.

My disappointment doesn't last long, though, because before I have time to open my eyes, I feel the warm moisture of his lips just under the column of my jaw. Gasping softly, a warmth spreads throughout my entire being, leaving a trailing fire in its wake.

A million thoughts run through my mind at once, but only one grabs my focus. _Trust._

I trust this man before me, more than I've ever trusted anyone. And I know, that at this moment, in this time in space, that I want to fully give myself to him, body and soul. The demon in my head be damned.

This is something that not even the devil himself can take from me.

I run my hands through his short hair and tug slightly, reveling in the softness of it. Ethan hums in response and drags his mouth up to hover over my own, his breath fanning across my flushed face.

Releasing his hair, I place both hands against the solid warmth of his chest, and press my flush against his, kissing him wholly.

A tremor goes through me, as his tongue traces over my bottom lip, silently asking for entrance, and I yield myself to him completely. And then he's kissing me harder; with an intensity, I've never experienced before. His taste invades my senses, and somewhere in the back of my mind, I feel Ethan close the door with his foot.

A groan slips out, which he swallows with another deep kiss, as he places two warm hands at my hips, gently guiding us until the backs of my knees hit the bed.

Suddenly, he's looking at me, a question forming on his swollen lips, but I just nod my head, and before he can say anything more, I twist my fingers in his shirt, tugging, until I am lying beneath him.

He kisses me gently this time, but I quickly deepen it. My teeth clashing against his as I bring our bodies closer. Ethan groans, low in his throat, at the contact and runs a calloused hand over my body.

I want him closer. I want his skin against mine.

My brain his fuzzy and I slide my wandering hands to the buttons of his shirt at the same time as he reaches the ties at my dress.

Time moves slowly then, as we peel away the barriers. We move gently, both fumbling slightly in our nervousness.

Not of each other, but because we both have waited so long for this moment.

And then there is nothing else between us, but the soft glow of candlelight, as we move together.

Nothing interrupts us, as we memorize each other's bodies. Not my demons, not his beast.

And afterward, as we lay tangled up, I brush my nose along his chest and breath in his warm scent, before falling into the first dreamless night I've had in weeks.

 **A/N: this chapter turned out to be a lot longer than I planned, and it seems that my imagination has a mind of its own;)**

 **Mr. Clare has finally made an appearance! Yay!**

 **And I wrote my first "smut" scene. I didn't want to write anything too graphic, but I still wanted to maintain a sense of intimacy. I hope I did it justice**

 **Also, any thoughts or constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated**

 **Well, until next chapter!**

 **-S**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Has it really been almost 5 months since my last update? Gosh, does time get away…I officially dislike adulting. And, since drinking tea, reading books, and watching my favorite shows all day is frowned upon, my life has become an endless pile of homework. Don't worry, though, I will try and get the next chapter up sooner than I did with this one.**

 **And thank you all for those lovely words and input on my last chapter!**

 **So, I've decided to do this chapter a bit differently than the rest. The first part will be from Ethan's POV, and the other part will be from Vanessa's. I hope it works out okay!**

 **R &R! Happy Readings! **

**Disclaimer: Penny Dreadful and its characters belong to John Logan and ShowTime. All Rights Reserved. I'm merely borrowing them, with the promise of putting them back where I found them. Maybe…;)**

 **Ethan's PoV**

The night before the change is always the worst. A burning energy stirs under my skin, and if I close my eyes to sleep, I'll imagine all the horrors that could occur. Most nights, I choose not to sleep and wait until sunup when the beast quiets down a bit. The calm before the storm.

But tonight is different. Tonight, I don't feel the scratching beneath my skin, and while I still don't sleep, it is like a wave of peace has settled over me. For once, all is quiet, and I send a silent prayer of thanks for the soft body sleeping next to mine.

The candles have long since burned out, and I look down at the source of my peaceful night, watching as the nightly shadows, mix with the moonlight across the pale skin of her back. The sight of her takes my breath away, and I force myself not to wake her. She needs the rest. Instead, I settle on brushing her dark strands from her face, and gently stroke her cheek, watching the soothing rise and fall of her chest.

oooOOOooo

When the sun makes its appearance, I slowly leave the warmth of the bed and pull on my clothes from the night before.

There are a few errands for tonight that need to be taken care of, and I'd rather do them before Vanessa wakes. Finding a pen and paper, I quickly scrawl a few words down.

Just in case you wake before I am back. Be home for breakfast.

With love,

Ethan

After placing it on the empty spot next to her, I quietly make my way downstairs.

I am almost to the door when a voice stops me.

"Good morning Mr. Chandler."

Turning, I smile slightly at Aseema, who is leaning against the kitchen doorway with her hands wrapped around a mug.

"Mornin', you're up early." I say in greeting.

She laughs softly. "I could say the same to you, Mr. Chandler."

Her accent is more pronounced in the mornings I notice, and my throat tightens at the reminder of her father. I quickly push the feeling away.

"Just have some things I gotta do this morning." I drawl and put on my hat, hoping she would take the hint that I am in a hurry.

"For tonight, yes?"

I pause.

"And you don't want Miss Ives to know." She states

My continued silence is enough to confirm her question. It unnerves me when she does that.

"You know, I keep forgetting you can do that." I mutter.

Realizing that I won't be leaving until she quits her questioning, I brush past her and head into the kitchen, feeling a bit irked that she's been looking through my head.

Sensing my irritation, she follows me in and pours me a cup of coffee.

"I wasn't reading your mind." She says, handing the hot mug over. "I can only see what you let me, and you sir, have a sturdy wall around your thoughts. Almost as tough as Miss Ives'."

I frown, confused at her words.

 _Then how was she able to see into Vanessa's mind while she was sleeping? Or how did she know my feelings for Vanessa, when we only just met?_

My puzzlement must be evident on my face because she quickly explains.

"If I want, I can force my way in, like I did with Vanessa, that first night. But it can be very uncomfortable, and I prefer not to invade if I do not have too."

I nod and look down at my coffee. It still doesn't explain why she knew those other things about me.

And then she chuckles, causing me to look up at her. She regards me with an amused expression.

"I may not be able to get through to your thoughts, but you are one of the most readable people I have encountered." She pours herself another cup and takes a seat at the table. She nods to the empty chair, and I join her, waiting for her to continue.

"I knew you loved Vanessa because it was so clearly written on your face when you looked at her, and I know why you don't want Miss Ives to take part in your morning errands. You are ashamed of the creature you turn into, and you think Miss Ives has seen enough monsters in her lifetime. You don't want her to have to deal with what you believe yourself to be on nights like tonight."

I swallow.

"And what's that?" I ask.

"Monstrous."

We don't say anything for a while after that.

oooOOOooo

Aseema breaks the silence, as I'm heading for the door.

"I want to come with you."

I sigh.

Of course, she does.

"I don't think that's a good idea."

I pull on my coat as she watches me, her face indignant. Sometimes I forget that she is so young.

"It was my father who helped you before, was it not?"

Can't she just leave it alone?

"Yes, and look how well that turned out." Clenching my jaw, I yank open the door, inhaling as the cold air hits my face.

"He knew the risks, as do I, and if it's all the same to you," She murmurs softly as if speaking to a cornered animal. "I'd like to help."

Damn it all to hell.

"Come-on then, I'd like to be back before breakfast."

Since it's still early, we make our way through town quickly. I get new shackles for the basement since the others have rusted over in my absence, and despite Aseema's protests, I buy her a gun, for safe keeping.

When we return, the house is still asleep, and after bringing the supplies down to the basement, I make my way upstairs.

oooOOOooo

 **Vanessa's PoV**

I wake to the sound of muffled noises echoing downstairs. Blinking drowsily against the soft pastels of autumn light flooding through the window, I turn to wrap my arms around the warm body next to mine.

Except there is no warm body next to mine. I reach my arm out to touch the cool sheets, and my hand grazes something smooth.

Sitting up, I push the hair from my face, and pick up the folded parchment, reading it.

 _With love, Ethan._

I frown.

The last time I saw those three words, they concluded his farewell, and I cannot help the tightening in my chest at the sight of them.

I quickly look up as the door opens, revealing a sheepish looking Ethan. I set the paper aside.

"We didn't wake you, did we?" he asks.

I only smile in response, as he makes his way over to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Sleep well?"

His voice his husky, and I feel my smile widen.

"Very."

He smiles back, if not a little shyly, before pulling me up and softly kissing my mouth. When we pull apart, I can't help but run my fingers through his hair. It's grown out a lot in the weeks since he's been back.

"Where did you go?"

His smile falters as he regards me.

"Town."

"Hmm..you are being stubborn." I say, tugging his hair slightly harder than I normally would. But ordinarily, he doesn't keep things from me.

"For what?" I press.

"You already know why I went out, so why are you asking?" He snaps.

I let my arms fall at my sides and narrow my eyes at him.

"Because I didn't want you to go alone."

His eyes soften slightly at my words.

"I wasn't alone." He says, "Aseema went with me."

Huffing, I get out of bed, and peel off my nightgown, ignoring the gooseflesh rising on my skin.

"So, you just didn't want me to go with you, is all." I say, trying not to sound too hurt.

"Can I at least be there with you tonight?" I ask

Behind me, I hear him sigh.

"Vanessa, it's complicated."

I scoff and pull open the door to my wardrobe.

 _Complicated? What's so complicated with wanting to help?_

Tugging a grey underdress over my head, I turn back to Ethan, who is still sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Did you forget our conversation last night?" I ask, "I am not some damsel. You've seen me at my worse and have remained by my side. Now it is my turn. Let me be there for you."

He stands up and pinches the bridge of his nose.

"You can be there for me, without actually being there." He says slowly.

"Why don't you want me in there?" I ask, "It is not as if I have not seen what you are. And we both know the wolf will not cause me harm."

He says nothing.

"What are you so frightened of, that you cannot even let me in?"

"Damn it, Vanessa!" Almost growling, he grasps my upper arms in a firm grip, making me look at him.

His eyes, usually a soft brown, are hard with desperation.

"Just, please."

Pulling free from his hold, I set my jaw and leave him standing there. I quickly do up my dress and pin my hair, before opening the bedroom door.

I turn back to his motionless figure.

"We are supposed to be partners, you and me." I whisper quietly and shut the door with an echoing click.

OooOOOooo

I find Malcolm in the main room, reading the paper. He looks up as I walk in, and smiles.

I attempt a smile back, but seeing right through my façade, Sir Malcolm narrows his eyes in concern.

I sit down next to him and lean my head on his shoulder.

"Why are men so stubborn?"

A low rumble of laughter vibrates against my cheek.

"I do believe us men ask that very question about women." Malcolm replies, sounding amused.

Sitting up look at him, I narrow my eye at him in suspicion.

"Do you know the reason Ethan will not allow me to be in the room when he changes form?"

A flicker of bemusement crosses Sir Malcolm's face, but it is gone in an instant.

And I know it is because I am not usually one to seek him out on matters of the men in my life, but Ethan is not just a man in my life. He is a part of everyone in this company, and I know Sir Malcolm understands this.

"I do not think we will ever know some of the reasons why Ethan does what he does." He turns on the couch to look at me, "His life before us, is still a mystery, even to me. Just give him some time, Vanessa."

I nod, feeling ashamed at my behavior upstairs. But only slightly. The man is too stubborn for his own good.

"Oh, I almost forgot."

I am pulled from my thoughts as Malcolm pulls out an envelope from his vest, and hands it to me.

It is addressed to my name. I go over to the desk and quickly cut the letter open.

"It is from Mr. Lyle." I say.

"What does it say?" I look up from the parchment at the sound of Ethan's voice.

Meeting his gaze briefly, I look back down at the letter and began to read it aloud.

" _Dear Miss Ives,_

 _I hope this letter finds you in good health. As you know, I have been conversing with Miss Hartdegen. What an fascinating woman she is! She reminds me of you a bit if you do not mind my saying so. She has brought to my attention, the peculiar situation you are in. Upon hearing this news, my dear, I have decided it is time for me to come back to London. I hope you do not mind, as I have told another of your predicament. His name is Colin Gibson. He is an apprentice of mine, and I think he can be of great assistance to us. A fellow English man. Quite handsome he is too! Though do not tell our good Mr. Chandler I've said as much. I assume he is back? Oh, so many questions my dear. By the time this letter reaches you, Mr. Gibson and I will be well on our way. We will call upon you as soon as we arrive in London. Until then Miss Ives._

 _Mr. Lyle"_

Smiling fondly at Mr. Lyle's unabashed words, I carefully fold the letter back, tucking it into the pocket of my dress.

"I am having lunch with Victor today, so I will pass on Mr. Lyle's return." Sir Malcolm says.

"Don't forget to warn him of this handsome Mr. Gibson who has apparently taken our place." Ethan adds, humor filling his voice.

Sir Malcom chuckles quietly and I can't fight the smile that slips onto my mouth.

It seems we are all relieved to finally have some air progress underway, no matter the tensions from earlier.

OooOOOooo

I sit in the main room with my cards, until Sir Malcom leaves for town, and then I head down into the basement.

He is there, just like I knew he would be, sitting in a chair from the kitchen, that has no doubt seen better days. It faces the stone wall where several chains are attached.

"My father."

"What?" It is barely a whisper, and I almost don't catch it.

"You asked me what I am so afraid of." He leans forward, bracing his elbows on his knees, "My father."

I soundlessly cross the distance between us, and crouch before him, searching his face, but he's looking at the iron shackles on the ground. My skirts shuffle innocently around them.

"When he found out what I was, he told me something that I hadn't even remembered until now." Pausing, he takes a deep breath and lifts his eyes to mine. "He told me, 'when you find that one person who means everything to you, you better hope to God you don't kill her too'."

I swallow, taking in his words. I know little about what happened to his family, but he has known since the very beginning that death has followed me closer than most normal people. Quite possibly it will be that way for the rest of my days. Though deep down, I know, no matter what I say now will convince him that his other form is the least of my worries, because if I cannot beat the forces against me, if I fall, he will still blame himself.

I know there is plenty more he is not telling me, but I understand his anguish at the thought of me seeing him chained up like a beast.

"Ethan," I lean up to brush my lips with his. "I will go out tonight, I have some things I need to tend to anyways."

He accepts my attempt at a truce, and pulls me into his arms.

"Though this still does not mean I am entirely happy about it." I mummer into his neck.

He sighs, "Noted." I can almost feel him rolling his eyes. I smile.

OooOOOooo

I leave Ethan in the capable hands of Aseema, just before sundown, with the promise to be back before daybreak. He doesn't ask where I am going, and I can only suspect it is because there is already too much on his mind tonight.

A jittery energy fills the night air as I climb into the awaiting coach, though I don't know if it is to do with Ethan's changing or if it is because I am suddenly nervous to be out unaccompanied.

 _Since when did being alone bother me?_

Taking a deep breath, I push down my paranoia and focus on the rhythmic movement of the carriage, knowing I will feel better when I get to my destination.

The place is just as I remember it. I enter through the back, and don a white hospital mask. A girl, who couldn't have been more than sixteen, hands me and apron and a ladle, and I get to work.

As the hours pass, I forget about my nervousness from earlier, and I am filled with a sense of accomplishment. It feels good to be able to discard my own troubles, if only for an evening, and focus on offering comfort to these suffering people.

"Miss?"

I look up from my spot next to a young boy, who had wanted me to sit with him while he went to sleep. It is the young girl from earlier, and she gives me a small smile.

"The morning shift will be arriving soon." She informs me.

I stand and undo my apron, handing it back to her.

"Thank you." I say, "I will be back when I can."

Dawn is just beginning to break, and I decide to walk back. The foggy sky leaks bits of color through the passing night, and there are a few work men, snuffing out the street lamps, who tip their hats to me as I pass.

I am almost to the gates, when I feel the hairs on the back of my neck raise. A chill carries its way over me. I am being watched. I look around for evidence of this feeling, but there is nothing out of the ordinary. Just the early risers, prepping for a day of work.

Quickening my step, I continue on, all the while sensing someone at my back. Lurking in the shadows like a predator tracking its prey. Waiting.

And as I lock the door behind me, I can only hope Mr. Lyle and his apprentice have some answers for us.

 **A/N: Whew…I think this is my longest chapter yet.**

 **So, as we all know, nothing ever stays hearts and butterflies in the world of Penny Dreadful, but I took a few liberties and added a little anyways;)**

 **Anyone else glad that Mr. Lyle is coming back? Also, new character! I am excited to introduce him.**

 **If this story feels like it is dragging, I do apologize with promises of it picking up very soon. Action and twists await. I just had to kind of get the ball rolling.**

 **And as always, comments are graciously accepted. I do love hearing your thoughts and ideas:)**

 **Until next chapter**

 **-S**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Hello dear readers! I am back with Chapter 11 and am very excited to introduce the new character. Let me know what your thoughts are on him;)**

 **Also, I want to send a big thank you to the wonderful reviews I've had from the last chapter. I get inspired just by reading them. You all are simply the best!**

 **Happy Readings!**

 **Disclaimer: I only own Aseema and Mr. Gibson, the rest belong to John Logan. I do not own Penny Dreadful.**

 **Vanessa's PoV**

The days leading up to Mr. Lyle's arrival, pass slowly and without incidence, for which we are all grateful. I don't mention my paranoia from the other night to anyone. It will only cause unnecessary fretting. Especially from Ethan. Though, from the worried glances from Aseema, as subtle as she tries to be, do not go unnoticed. If she suspects anything amiss, she does not voice it aloud. I suspect she's waiting for me to say something.

I am putting the last touches on a letter for Dr. Seward when Ethan enters the room. He eyes the piece of paper curiously, but does not comment on it, and instead says, "Victor is here. He says the boat just arrived at the port."

That means our guests will be here soon. I quietly tuck the letter in the drawer for later and dust off my skirts. "Well, shall we go get some answers, Mr. Chandler?"

The corners of his mouth turn up, and he loops my arm to rest against his own. "Indeed, Miss Ives."

oooOOOooo

"Miss Ives! How good it is to see you again."

"Mr. Lyle." I smile at the shorter gentlemen as he warmly grasps my hand.

"You are looking well. Still too thin, but much better than when we said our farewells." Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Ethan frown. I don't have time to give him a reassuring smile, as I am approached by our second guest.

"You must be Mr. Gibson." I say, holding out my hand. He is a tall man, maybe a few years older than I.

He takes my hand and kisses the back of it, his red beard tickling my skin. "And you must be Miss Ives, I have heard a lot about you."

His green eyes gleam with mischief, and I can't help but grin at his forwardness.

I stand aside as everyone gets acquainted. Sir Malcolm is speaking to Mr. Lyle, Ethan and Victor are talking amongst themselves, and I can't help but roll my eyes at the glances they are giving Mr. Gibson.

I follow their gazes toward our new arrival. He is engaging in conversation with Aseema, who seems most amused at whatever story he is telling.

I wonder if she is able to reach into his mind without his knowledge. And as if hearing my musings, she catches my eye and gives me a subtle shake of her head no.

Well, this should be an interesting turn of events.

OooOOOooo

Our company, along with its newest member, sit around the dinner table. I am beside Victor and Ethan. Looking across the table to where our new member is seated, I lightly dab my napkin to my lips before saying, "So, tell us, Mr. Gibson how you became acquainted with our dear friend, Mr. Lyle?"

All eyes turn to him, and he smiles, not in the least bit bothered about the attention fully on him. He sets down his spoon and begins his tale. "I was on a job in Egypt, uncovering a mass of bones found by one of my crew men. I am an archeologist, you see, I unearth and study bones for research. I went to visit the historical museum there as reference for the bones we had found, and Mr. Lyle was the one to aid me in my search. He became a mentor of sorts."

"And you followed him here to…what, research Miss Ives?"

All heads turn to Victor, stunned at the disapproval in his voice, but his eyes are only on Mr. Gibson, who, to his credit, doesn't blink an eye.

"No, not research," He says, "Though I have my reasons."

Everyone is tense as Gibson shrugs his shoulders and takes another swallow of his soup. I dart my gaze to Ethan, who has his eyes narrowed at Mr. Lyles's friend. I know that look.

He does not trust our new visitor.

"Well, let us not talk of such heavy matters this evening," Sir Malcolm declares, breaking the silence, "Let's leave it till the morrow."

OooOOOooo

"So, what is your observation of Mr. Gibson?"

I turn my gaze from the night sky over to look at Ethan. I watch him pull out a cigarette and light it, from my spot by the window. Patting the space next to me, I feel a teasing smile tug at my lips.

"You don't like him, do you?"

He blows out a breath and hands me the cigarette, the smoke swirling between our fingers as I reach for it.

"I don't trust him," He says. And then adds, "Neither does Victor."

I chuckle at the quick defense he gives.

"Yes, I think our good doctor made it quite clear what he thought of Mr. Gibson." Victor's comment at dinner had left everyone a bit shocked. Quite different from his usual reserved self.

"Doesn't it seem strange that this guy just shows up out of the blue, offering his assistance? He barely even knows Mr. Lyle, let alone the fine details of your situation."

I take a long drag from the cigarette as I contemplate Ethan's words. He is not wrong. Mr. Gibson's interest in me does seem a bit odd for an archeologist. Then again, everything about my situation is strange.

Wrapping my arms around my skirt clad knees, I look back up to the crisp night sky. It is an unusually clear night for London. I feel Ethan's gaze on me, silently awaiting my response. But I do not have an answer to ease his concerns. I only know that I am tired, tired of the constant worrying and everything that comes with it. So perhaps a fresh pair of eyes and a new mind, no matter how strange, could be the thing that puts us on the right track.

oooOOOooo

The morning brings a new bustle of energy as everyone sets out on tasks for the day. It seems Mr. Lyle has deemed himself in charge of our little endeavors. As I make my way down the stairs, I see him pulling on his gloves in his usual air of excitement, his coifed hair a tad bit out of place.

"Mr. Chandler, you and Victor will be accompanying me to the museum. And do bring your gun belt Mr. Chandler, you never know what might be lurking down in that basement." He adds the last bit with a wink.

Victor gives Ethan an exasperated look and then follows Mr. Lyle outside. Chuckling, Ethan dons his hat and gives me a teasing wink before shutting the door behind him.

Smiling, I make my way to the kitchens to see if Mr. Lyle, bless him, has spared anyone else from his activities.

I spot Aseema and Mr. Gibson having tea at the table.

"Ah, Miss Ives! I see Mr. Lyle has let you be."

I pour myself a steaming cup of Aseema's spiced tea and join them at the table.

"Yes, I do believe his exact words were to… 'stay put.'"

Mr. Gibson chuckles.

"Just as well, I was hoping to get a chance to speak with you today," and then he adds "alone."

My eyes dart to Aseema, who smiles reassuringly at my anxious expression.

"I too, have been assigned with a task," Aseema says as she gracefully stands up. I notice she is dressed for going out. "Mr. Lyle wants me to gather some things up for protection of the house. I am to meet Sir Malcolm there."

And then she is gone, leaving me alone with our guest, who is definitely more than meets the eye.

We sit in silence for what seems like an eternity until Mr. Gibson clears his throat.

"If you could take it away, the memories, the pain, all of it. Would you?"

I narrow my eyes at his forwardness, but he does not seem the least bit uncomfortable with the subject he has brought up. It seems he has decided to skip the pleasantries.

"I was offered that before—that false life."

"It doesn't have to be false." I see a challenge in his green eyes, and I sit a little straighter in my chair.

 _Is he testing me?_

"It does," I say frankly, "It is not meant for someone like me." It hurts to say the words out loud again, but not speaking them still doesn't change that fact that it is true.

He leans back into his chair, running a hand down his beard.

"Someone like you?"

"Yes," I feel something build up inside me. Like smoke clouding a window, suffocating the outside view. I take a deep breath, willing the feeling aside as I continue, "Cursed—with a devil on my back."

Mr. Gibson stands then and begins pacing the length of the kitchen. I can practically see the questions brimming behind those eyes of his. It is evident now that Mr. Lyle has not shared everything with him.

"And Ethan?"

"What of Ethan?" I ask quietly. Whatever questions I thought he had, this was not one I expected him to ask me.

I wring my hands together, tightening and loosening them until my knuckles are white. The action does not go unnoticed by the man standing before me.

"Are you to curse him with this life as well?" He asks bluntly.

His question is valid, but still, it makes me bristle. With shaky hands, I push myself off the seat, the room suddenly too small.

 _Who does he think he is, coming here and asking these kinds of questions?_

As if sensing my unease, Mr. Gibson ceases his pacing and quietly walks over to me. I see though that he is still expecting an answer.

"He made his choice long ago, he knows the risks," I lift my chin and meet his stare, "Not that it is any concern to you."

He gives me a grin that does not match the hardness in his eyes. I can see behind that hardness though, and it is something I am very akin to. He is unsure, maybe even a little frightened. And again, I wonder what his motives are.

"So, everyone in this so-called company is so easily willing to risk their lives for you. It is interesting." He reaches out a pale hand and brushes the back of it to my cheek, almost like you would do if you were soothing a child. I will myself not to take a step back. "You must be very special."

Now it is my turn to give a grim grin. "What about you, Mr. Gibson, why are you here?"

"There is the question I've been waiting for from you." He offers his arm and plasters on a dashing smile. "Come, I will tell you all about it."

oooOOOooo

We sit in the main room, and I lean against one of the cushions, watching while the strange man before me, nervously meets my eyes. All the bravado it seems was left behind in the kitchen.

Sitting a little taller, I give him a nod of encouragement. He sits beside me, our knees almost touching, and he drags a hand down his beard. A nervous habit I presume.

"I had a sister. She was much like you. Not in looks, but in spirit you see." He gives me a quick glance before continuing. "She had the reddest hair, always getting teased by her classmates, much to her displeasure. It was no wonder that she had the temper to match her hair." He chuckles wistfully as if remembering a fond memory. "She was full of life, much like yourself. Long story short, she married a wealthy gentleman whose business extended to America. I kept correspondence with her through letters. She seemed happy, content."

His expression darkens. "Then, last year I got a letter from her husband saying that she had fallen ill. I was on the next ship out."

I place a comforting hand on his sleeve. "You need not continue, Mr. Gibson, I understand." But he shakes his head and puts his other hand on the one I have against his forearm.

"No. I must continue. It is of utmost importance that you hear this." And so, he continues.

We were wrong to judge him so quickly.

He tells me of the sickness, that was not a typical illness. He tells me of his sister's feverish ramblings and how even a priest was unable to help.

"It was not until I heard about your own experiences, that her last words made sense to me. On her final day, she was quiet. An eerie calmness had settled over her." I watch, unable to help, as the painful memories grasp him. "Her once beautiful face turned to sharp angles against transparent skin. I sat by her side all the while, but I knew…I knew she would not survive the night."

Mr. Gibson pauses to scrub a stubborn tear from his cheek. I hold my breath then, meeting his intense gaze as he utters the words that chill my very bones.

"She passed just before dawn. Her last words to me were, 'He has gone to the raven, for that is where it ends.' I did not know what she meant at the time, I brushed it off to feverish delirium, but now I know—"

"I am the raven." I say. My voice is barely a whisper.

All Mr. Gibson offers me is a grim nod. I feel oddly detached as those final words of his departed sister sink in.

Is this to be what becomes of my life? Monsters and grief and fear. And for what? To have it all end in death? Is this to be my legacy when I leave this world?

I feel Mr. Gibson's concerned gaze, and I swallow thickly, willing my voice steady.

"Have you told anyone of this?"

He shakes his head.

"Only Mr. Lyle."

I nod and rise from the seat cushions, brushing my hands down my skirts to keep them from shaking.

"Very well, we shall inform the others together."

But first, there is somewhere I need to go.

It was time to see Dr. Seward.

 **A/N: The plot thickens. Are you all figuring out who the 'He' is that Mr. Gibson's poor sister was talking about? Though my lips are sealed on the matter, I would love to hear your guesses! Reviews or just thoughts, in general, are appreciated, in fact, they are encouraged ;)**

 **Thank you for your readings and continued support with this story.**

 **Until next time,**

 **-S**


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